


The Lady of the Lake

by jadelotusflower



Series: A Year in the Life [12]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, Mara (finally) has her baby, Naboo Festival of Light, The Last Celestial
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:28:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22401799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadelotusflower/pseuds/jadelotusflower
Summary: On Naboo for the Festival of Light, Luke and Leia get to know their Naberrie family, and Mara prepares to have her baby.
Relationships: Mara Jade/Luke Skywalker
Series: A Year in the Life [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/235278
Comments: 34
Kudos: 58





	1. Chapter 1

Mara’s fingers click-clacked across the keypad with practiced ease, before leaning back in her chair to re-read what she’d written. Satisfied, she typed in her name, clicked send, and watched the message disappear, leaving her empty inbox. 

It was the last correspondence she would send as an active trader in Karrde’s organisation. As of that moment, she was unemployed.

Mara smiled to herself; it was a luxury she’d never been afforded. Her childhood had come to an abrupt end when she was taken into the Emperor’s service and her life became an endless cycle of trainers, tutors, and tests. The Emperor’s Hand had been more a way of life than a job, which was why it had been such a struggle when thrown into the cold hard galaxy alone after her master’s death. 

But she’d not been without skills, which was better than most orphans could say. Mara had thrown herself into any job she could, scraping by while on the run from Isard, working as a mechanic, manual labourer, bartender, general job-skifter by day and nursing her dreams of revenge by night. 

It hadn’t been until joining Karrde’s organisation that she found the stability she’d been craving since the death of the Emperor. Although working as a smuggler was hardly a safe profession, it was steady and she excelled at it, easily making the transition to trader when Karrde went legit, and striking out on her own when she felt the urge to do so. 

But now that work had ended too, and for the first time in her life Mara had no duties or responsibilities to fulfill, no deadlines to meet, no tasks to accomplish. 

There was a gentle thud in her womb; evidently the baby disagreed. Mara pressed one hand to her swollen belly, now impossibly large, or so she’d complained to Luke the previous night.

“Alright, simmer down,” she rubbed the spot where the baby kicked. “As if I could forget you.”

It was also the first time in her life Mara felt supremely unqualified. This was new territory, although Leia had reassured her many times that all mothers felt the same with their first child. But Mara hadn’t searched for reassurance - she liked a challenge, always certain she would rise to it.

Still...

Mara turned back to her empty screen. Shutting off the commscreen seemed like finality, and she’d been dreading this moment, this transition to another new life. She’d expected it to hurt, to feel a pang of longing, but it wasn’t as strong as she’d feared. There was no regret, for Mara knew it was not a true end - if she chose, she could return to consult for Karrde, or act as liaison for the Jedi Order, or do anything else she wished. Being a Jedi didn’t mean giving up everything else in her life as she’d once thought - it was simply another facet of who she was. As was becoming a mother. 

Mara lifted herself - with some difficulty - to her feet, thinking that she’d be grateful when the child was outside of her body and easier to lug around, or at least pass off to Luke. Her body had become unwieldy and ungainly, and Mara didn’t like feeling as if she couldn’t run and jump, nor crouch down and draw a blaster if the situation called for it. 

Not that it was likely on Naboo, the most beautiful and peaceful planet Mara had ever seen. Luke’s Aunt Sola had given them the use of the Naberrie’s ancestral estate Varykino, a sprawling villa on the banks of Lake Nimué. Mara was currently occupying the plush rooms Sola had made up for them - apparently the assignation of quarters was very strict according to Naboo custom. Because Luke was family, they were accorded among the best the villa had to offer, although the Organa-Solos had been granted use of the suite usually reserved only for a visiting Queen of Naboo - or apparently, the daughter of a former ruler.

Luke and Mara’s rooms were in a private rotunda overlooking the lake, and had an adjoining nursery. Sola had obviously taken great care with their preparation, bursting with pride that Padme’s grandchild would be born at Varykino. There was a cot already prepared, with a mobile hanging above consisting of small ornaments carved from japor ivory - Sola had sourced the material from Tatooine and commissioned a local artist to create it to her exact specifications. On the domed ceiling above was a mural of stars, mimicking the sky outside that could be seen reflected in the lake’s surface on a clear night.

Feeling warm, Mara waddled over to the balcony where a soft summer breeze brushed pleasantly on her face. The sun was high, and she could hear laughter from down on the beach - or so they called the thin strip of sand that bordered the lake by the villa. Leia was resting in the shade, baby Dee asleep in her arms as she kept a watchful eye over Han and Anakin splashing in the shallows. Chewie wasn’t with them - he’d proclaimed that morning that he wasn’t getting his fur wet for anything, and had left after breakfast to explore the local forests.

Jacen and Jaina were swimming about halfway across the lake, racing towards the small island Sola had told them was called Amidala’s Beach. Every few seconds Han would look up to check on them, and Mara smiled at the happy scene.

She felt the urge to go down and join them, to let the cool water lap against her ankles. Or perhaps she should go find Luke; he had gone off with Sola on some historical tour of the villa, but the prospect wasn’t any more inviting than it had been that morning. 

In truth she felt like laying down on the bed, slipping between the cool sheets and drifting off to sleep until Luke came to wake her. She’d been so tired recently - zig-zagging across the galaxy touching base with clients and associates for the last time, late nights dealing with correspondence and completing the last of her larger jobs, days spent with Shada D’ukal in the final handover of duties, satisfying herself that nothing had been forgotten, meeting with her replacement at the Smuggler’s Alliance and having to reconcile herself that they’d have to make do without her. 

It was time to rest - everyone had told her so, even the midwife who’d come from the neighbouring village at Sola’s insistence. The birth was imminent, and the woman had told Mara that her only job was now to rest, and wait. 

But Mara had never been very good at either; she was a planner, her life ordered and disciplined with nothing left to chance. It was how she’d always survived, how she’d found order in the chaos of her tumultuous life. But this was one thing she could not control.

The mattress accepted her weight as Mara stretched out on the bed, but it was impossible to find a comfortable position. The days of laying on her back were of course long behind her, but she’d found that on her side, with a particular angle of her spine and propped up by the right number of pillows, she could just about drift off for a few hours before being awakened by the baby kicking or a desperate need to use the ‘fresher. 

But it seemed today she would have no such luck. The bed was as soft an inviting as she’d ever known, but it may as well have been a duracrete floor for all the good it did her. Still, she persevered for a few minutes, keeping her eyes closed and trying to ignore the dull ache in her back. Often Elia would curl up behind her, a bundle of warmth to alleviate discomfort better than any heatpack. But evidently outraged that Mara would pay attention to her work rather than her tooka, Elia had left the room in a huff, most likely to the kitchens to look for food scraps from the caretaker’s wife who was both the villa’s chef and a soft touch.

Sleepless minutes passed, and Mara found herself no closer to rest. But her hearing ever acute, she caught the familiar rolling of wheels against the marble floor before a dull red light spotted beneath her eyelids. 

“What is it, Artoo?” She opened her eyes to see him right by her bedside, which she found disconcerting. 

The little droid warbled plaintively, and while Mara couldn’t understand him as well as Luke, she got the gist of it. 

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Don’t worry so much.”

He’d been a right mother avian in her pregnancy, with such frequent anxiety that she’d often joked he was turning into Threepio. Mara was constantly scolded about what she ate, how she moved, her activity levels - it was driving her up the wall but Luke only shrugged as if it was another cute droid affectation. Secretly, he probably liked Artoo looking out for her and worrying enough for all three of them. 

“I told you to stop monitoring my vitals while I’m sleeping,” she said irritably, reaching out her hand to block his eyestalk. “It’s creepy.”

His response was indignant; apparently her blood pressure was high.

“I wonder why,” she said through gritted teeth. For the most part she’d humoured him; Luke’s mother had died in childbirth, and Artoo had witnessed it all. But as accommodating as Mara tried to be, she had drawn the line at regular blood tests and decreed that any mechanical appendage he tried to use on her, the little droid wouldn’t get back. 

But Artoo was insistent, rattling off all the potential conditions with symptomatic high blood pressure, from approaching labor to pre-eclampsia. He nudged forward, suggesting that if he would just let him measure her ankle circumference or check the protein levels of her urine- 

With a huff, Mara kicked back the sheet and lumbered to her feet, placing one hand on Artoo’s dome to steady herself.

“Go talk to the midwife it you want to bother someone,” she told him. “I’m going outside.” 

* * *

Although Sola had called the country retreat a “lake house” to Luke it seemed like a palace, room upon room of opulent furnishings and artwork befitting the grand aristocratic line his mother had come from. He could only imagine what his father may have thought - had he been impressed by such finery, or found it rather wasteful in its excess?

Luke found himself somewhere between the two. He appreciated beautiful things - he didn’t have the refined tastes and classical upbringing to understand the meaning behind it all, but he could at least enjoy it aesthetically. But another part of him couldn’t help but wonder how something could be beautiful if possessing it did not also have a practical value, and found himself calculating how many times over the Lars family homestead could have been bought and sold for the cost of a single vase, or candlestick, or glass sculpture.

But they were idle thoughts, not judgements, for Sola was clearly proud of her heritage and eager to share it with him.

“Now Luke,” Sola linked her arm through his as she lead him to a grand ballroom. “I understand you have an interest in Celestials?”

“Ah, you could say that.” So far Luke had only shared his discovery of their _other_ heritage with Leia and Han, who agreed that it was not information they wanted to become public, even amongst extended family and friends. 

“As luck would have it, legend says our Lake Country was home to one.” Sola gestured to the domed ceiling above them, covered in a sparkling mosaic. It was made from gold pebbles and rich bluestones in swirling crescent waves from the base of the dome to its apex, where a female figure was depicted with long blonde hair and a shimmering aquamarine tail. 

“A mermaid?”

“That was how the artist chose to depict her,” Sola told him. “It was said that she could take many forms - and a mermaid represents the bridging of the earth and sea

“Who was she?” Luke craned his neck to get a better look.

“Nabéire was the mistress of the waters,” Sola explained. “Her children were the sirens that controlled the tides, the nymphs who guarded the sacred lakes, and the selkies that could shed their water-skin to walk on land. Legend says it was she who taught the Gungans to swim, and for this they honour her too, the one link between our two great societies, her dual descendents.”

Luke noted the similarity, despite the difference in pronunciation. “Your family took her name for your own?”

Sola gave a light laugh. “My great-great grandmother Nyaa was the daughter of a silk merchant who dreamed of becoming a handmaiden to the Queen, but had little to recommend herself other than the skill of her needle. In those days it was considered quite unseemly to come from trade, so she convinced her father to give her the finest silk he owned, and with it sewed two dresses; one for Queen Rilla, and one for herself.”

Sola gestured to a colourful tapestry which hung on the wall, depicting a dark-haired woman in a fine gown and mysterious smile holding a needle, and a fair-haired girl with white face paint and a crown.

“With nothing but these silk dresses and courage, she travelled to Theed and presented herself at the palace as Nyaa Naberrie, of the lake country’s oldest and most noble family no one had ever heard of. So taken with the beauty of her gown no one questioned her at first, and when she presented her gift to the Queen, no one could deny that it was the finest they had ever seen.”

“And did she become a handmaiden?” Luke asked.

“No,” Sola smoothed down her brocade skirt. “Her deception was soon discovered, but by then Queen Rilla was charmed by her skill and cunning. Nyaa was made chief dressmaker, and permitted to keep the name she had adopted. In her dotage she returned to the lake district of her childhood and built this villa, commissioning Theed’s finest artist to honour the goddess who she always felt had been watching over her, so she could also watch over the generations to come.”

Luke looked back up and shifted from one foot to the other - the way the light hit the mosaic stones almost made it seem like the mermaid was flashing her tail at him. 

“Did my mother come here?”

“Yes.” Sola’s voice turned wistful. “We used to lay down on the floor and gaze up at Nabéire - we liked to pretend she could hear us.”

“And do you think she could?” Luke lowered his gaze back down. “I mean, have there been any ...remnants discovered?”

Sola laughed, giving him a sly look. “Now Luke, you don’t believe in fairy stories do you?”

Luke gave a nervous chuckle. “It wasn’t so long ago I heard the Jedi called much the same.”

“Fair point.” Sola clasped her hands in front of her cocked her head in thought. 

“All waters lead to the sea,” she said eventually. “Whether those of Naboo above ground or the Gungan below - but some paths are more treacherous than others, and you may need a guide.”

Luke tried to parse the metaphor. “I don’t understand.”

Sola looked up at the mosaic. “The core of our world is water, not molten rock - the ebb and flow of the tide is like that of life and death.”

Luke shook his head. “Sola, you’re being very cryptic.”

“That’s my prerogative.” She gave a kind laugh, lopping her arm through his to lead him to the next room. “And please, call me Auntie.”

* * *

The sun was beating down, but the sand was pleasantly warm beneath her feet, the fine grains slipping between her toes. She made a note to mention it to Luke later, seeing he was the expert, and wondered if he would have a lengthy explanation as to the makeup of lake sand as opposed to ocean or desert.

Mara chuckled to herself and rubbed her belly. “Your father’s a dork,” she murmured, and the child gave an answering kick.

She made her way over to deck chairs collected under a canopy, where Leia sat with a tall glass of ice water and baby Dee suckling at her breast. The kids and Han were still swimming - Jacen and Jaina had made it to the island, now tiny dots on the opposite shore.

“Mara,” Leia looked up with a smile as she approached. “Finished all your work?”

Mara nodded, lowering herself into the chair with more effort than she would have liked. “It’s all now officially someone else’s problem.”

“If only that were so,” Leia laughed. “I’m still getting almost daily calls from the new Chief-of-State’s aides.”

“Do you miss it?” If anyone could understand her mixed feelings, it was Leia.

Leia cast her eyes down to baby Dee, tiny little fist clenched as she fed, and lightly brushed her fingers over the dark crown of her head.

“Sometimes,” she admitted. “I’ve never been idle before - not that taking care of a child is idle - but with the others there was always other work to be done, calls to schedule, reports to be reviewed, decisions to be made. It feels...luxurious to be simply allowed to focus on Dee and nothing else.” 

“There’s still the Academy,” Mara pointed out, where Leia had been teaching classes for several months.

“Yes,” Leia nodded. “But that’s the beauty of it, there are other teachers, and the responsibility does not fall solely on me.”

“But do you think you’ll ever go back to it?” Mara asked. “Politics, I mean.”

Leia took a moment to consider. “No,” she admitted. “I enjoyed it because I was good at it, because I wanted to make a difference. But it was a duty - even in victory I couldn’t leave because there was no one else, at least not anyone I believed as capable as myself.”

“And Ponc Gavrisom is capable?” Mara raised one eyebrow; she would have described the new Chief of State adequate at best. 

Leia gave her an admonishing look. “I know you and Han think he’s a pompous windbag - but he’s an excellent mediator. That’s what I think the New Republic needs right now. A peacetime leader.”

“So you can enjoy the peace.” Mara took a sip of the iced tea a serving droid had brought for her. “Fair enough.”

“Do you think you’ll back to trading?” Leia said conversationally, checking on baby Dee who was wiggling in her arms - evidently she’d had enough for now. 

Mara shrugged. “It depends how I like the Jedi life I suppose - I don’t know how I’ll take to teaching. Or motherhood.”

Leia shifted Dee up to her shoulder, patting her lightly on the back as she readjusted her shirt. “It doesn’t have to be one or the other.”

“I know - Luke and I have spoken about it.” She rubbed her belly thoughtfully. “It’s the uncertainty I don’t like - the weight of responsibility. I’ve never had anyone entirely dependent on me, to protect them, guide them...and this child will have so much expectation put on her.”

“I know a little about that,” Leia smiled softly. “Jacen and Jaina were the first of a new generation, and when they were small I often wondered, what if they don’t want to be Jedi? I didn’t want a legacy to be forced upon them.”

“It’s inevitable, I suppose.” Mara looked out at the lake, where Han and Anakin were still splashing in the shallows. “A child always wants to please their family, and once they’re aware of the power they have, they will want to use it.”

Leia was silent for a while, gazing out at her husband and son in the lake, at her twins who were making their way back from the island. She sighed contentedly and then turned back to Mara. 

“Dee isn’t Force sensitive.” She held the baby close, cheek pressed against her tiny head.

“She isn’t?” Mara searched for disappointment in Leia’s face, but found none.

“You recall she was...conceived on New Alderaan.”

Mara laughed. “Yes, I remember your little scheme with the fertility festival,” she looked pointedly at Dee, “and how it backfired.”

“Not quite,” Leia was unashamed. “At the time I had so many regrets, my children were growing up so fast, and I hadn’t been able to spend the time I wanted with them when they were young.”

“You made the galaxy safe for them,” Mara argued. 

“Yes, but it came at a price,” Leia said ruefully. “On New Alderaan, I asked the Great Mother for a gift I didn’t even know I wanted. And she gave it to me.”

However, Dee chose that moment to spit up all over Leia’s shoulder, making both women laugh.

“She has her father’s timing,” Leia said wryly as she mopped up the milky foam with a hand towel, shifting Dee into the crook of her arm. The baby gurgled and gazed up at her with dark blue eyes.

“But you’re happy?” Mara asked. “You don’t think she’ll feel left out or resentful she doesn’t have the gifts her siblings do?”

“We’ll make sure she doesn’t,” Leia said resolutely. “And she’ll have other gifts, I’m sure.” 

“Did you know beforehand?” 

Leia shook her head. “I didn’t realise until she was born - but rather than sorrow I felt such exquisite relief. Because she’ll be mine and Han’s, and we won’t have to share her with some great destiny.” 

She looked up again. “Do you think that’s selfish?”

“No,” Mara said, almost envious. “I think that makes perfect sense.”

She’d felt her child’s strength in the Force - on Helal, when her soul had helped fight back the fire demon that had taken hold of Mara’s body. She’d never even questioned that a child of hers and Luke’s may not have the Force, and wondered if all things being equal, that was what she would prefer. 

Leia’s eyes were on her, that penetrating gaze that saw much, and felt even more. But Mara was saved from further conversation by a nearby whinnying. It was Patooga - Luke’s wonat, who was almost always by his side, but Sola had barred from inside the villa save their personal quarters. 

“Hey boy.” Mara held out her hand - she’d grown fond of the dumb mutt. Patooga trotted over, paws kicking up the sand slightly, to lick her hand.

“Where have you been, huh?” she scratched behind his ears and his double tail wagged rapidly.

“I think the caretaker took him on a hike earlier,” Leia supplied. “Luke didn’t want him to disturb your work.”

A thoughtful gesture, since the wonat had taken it upon himself to guard Mara whenever in her presence, and found the holounit in particular a threat, trying to climb into her lap whenever she started to type.

“And now you’ve found me.” Mara stared into Patooga’s large indigo eyes, and at her voice his lips curled back in what almost seemed like a smile, his large purple tongue flopping out of his mouth. 

“Here they come,” Leia remarked, nodding towards the lake where all three kids and Han were emerging. But her eldest son was outpacing them all, rushing up the beach and bypassing his mother to give Patooga a wet hug. 

“Can he come in the water, Aunt Mara?” Jacen asked, as Patooga licked the side of his face. “He’ll love it.”

“Sure, if he wants to.” As much as she had grown fond of him, Mara could do with a few more minutes without pet patrol.

“Ah, not yet Jacen.” Han approached, Anakin swinging from one arm. “Maybe later - it’s almost time for the boats.” 

“Boats?” Jacen looked intrigued, as Anakin moved over to coo at Dee.

“Mom, can I have her?” he asked, holding out his arms.

“The Festival of Light starts today,” Leia explained, passing Dee carefully over to Anakin. “There will be yacht races every day and fireworks every night.”

“Wizard,” said Jaina, wringing her hair out with a towel. “Does Auntie Sola have a boat? Do you think she can teach us to sail?”

“I don’t know,” Leia leaned back in her chair. “Anakin, don’t jiggle her so much.”

“Oh, there they are!” Jaina pointed to a collection of yachts that had appeared in the distance, with sleek silver bows and a multitude of coloured sails. She ran to the shoreline, Jacen at her heels, and Han took Dee so Anakin could follow them. He sank into a deck chair on Mara’s other side, rocking the baby gently as her eyes fluttered closed. 

“Not very fast, are they?” he remarked as the yachts glided across the lake at pace enough, but admittedly much slower when one was used to podracing or voidrunning.

“Everything seems to move at a slower pace here,” Leia said with a smile. “It’s relaxing.”

“Sweetheart, you couldn’t relax if you were in a coma,” Han laughed, accepting a drink from the serving droid. “Now me, I’m a natural.” He lounged back into the chair, Dee cuddled up against his chest.

“A natural something alright,” Leia said, but gave him a loving look. As always Mara was touched by their natural domesticity - she rubbed her belly again, wishing Luke would hurry up and join them. 

Ever attuned to her mood, Patooga whinnied again, shifting closer and resting his large head on her lap. Mara stroked his head and looked back out at the lake where the yachts had advanced, Jacen, Jaina, and Anakin waving excitedly as they passed.

“Hullo, Naberries!” came the call from a yacht in the lead with a bright yellow sail. A young couple were waving back at them, and Mara surmised they were friends of the family. 

“Hello!” Jaina yelled back, waving with both arms. “Good luck!”

“Blessings upon you!” the woman called back, waving to Leia as her partner gave a respectful bow. Soon those on the other yachts caught sight of them, moving to the edge of the railings to wave.

“Hail Amidala!” they called as they gave bows and salutes; “Blessings upon you, my Lady!” 

“What are we, chopped bantha?” Han murmured and gave Mara a wink. There was a solidarity between them now, the other half of their famous spouses, who could laugh and joke together while Leia and Luke had to remain formal and accept the praise of those so eager to meet them. 

Leia was giving her best royal wave in return. “Thought I’d left this back on Coruscant,” she said through her smile. 

“No maternity leave from being a Princess,” Han said as the yachts passed them by.

Or a Jedi, Mara thought to herself, as she gazed pensively out across the lake. But maybe-

“Ugh, Patooga!” She was caught off balance as the wonat jumped up to rest his large paws on her shoulders and lick her face. “Get off!” 


	2. Chapter 2

It was another blistering hot day, and yet inside the parlour of Varykino where a mild breeze drifted through the vast room and the marble floor was cool relief on bare feet, it did not seem so.

Sola, however, asked Mara if she was too warm every few minutes, fetched her sparkling iced water after learning she preferred it to still, urged her to snack on nashifruit and gallo nuts, and generally fell over herself to ensure Mara’s comfort.

Thankfully that day she wasn’t overwhelmed by anxious overseers; Luke had taken Artoo and Threepio with him to a local fishing village, and Jacen had been keen to hike with Patooga to the top of the island, Chewie along to supervise. Only Elia remained, basking in the shafts of sunlight that spilled over the marble floor, every now and then lifting her head to check on Mara with her large starscape eyes.

A long table of worked glass had been set out in the parlour, with Mara urged into the most comfortable chair at its head with Sola on one side and Leia on the other. They’d been joined by the rest of the Naberrie clan; Sola’s husband Darred (who insisted Han sit beside him) and their two daughters Ryoo and Pooja, Ryoo’s husband Bran, their son Rin and his boyfriend Krahled, their daughter Milla and her Zeltron husband Amakos Vim, and their three daughters Avy, Delly, and Eyrie. The latter was only a baby, floating in a repulsorcot nearby along with little Dee. 

At the other end of the table, dozing in a well-worn armchair was Jobal Naberrie, the matriarch of the family. At almost one hundred standard years, she was white-haired and frail, yet possessed of a still-steely countenance that could silence anyone in the room without raising her voice. Several times already she had woken abruptly to join the conversation, occasionally poking the end of her walking stick at them to punctuate her point, before chuckling to herself and drifting back to a half-sleep state.

The table before them was littered with a rainbow of coloured flimiplast, their task to fold each sheet into various shapes and sculptures to be hung in the ballroom on the last day of the festival.

Milla was by far the expert, her fingers nimble and quick as she folded and sculpted the flimsi into increasingly beautiful creations, from the flower that bore her name, to Naboo wildlife such as claw fish and shaaks, even a detailed reproduction of Varykino itself that stood proudly at the centre of the table. She’d also appointed herself instructor - with occasional interjections and corrections from Jobal, to whom Milla gave a roll of her eyes and a “yes great-grandmama” - before continuing to demonstrate her own way. 

She gave Jaina the easiest task of a hummingbird, setting her own daughter Avy next to her to give any further assistance, and soon the girls were laughing and talking together like old friends. To Leia, she assigned a butterfly, and Mara (after cooing over Elia) a tooka, pleased when they both picked the sequence up quickly and returned to her place at the table to tease her brother about his folding technique and make pointed comments about when he and his partner would finally get married. 

Mara found herself rather enjoying the activity; the constant rhythm of the folding rather appealed to her, and soon she fast outpaced the production of anyone else at the table save Milla. 

“You're a natural, my dear,” Sola said, eyeing Mara’s collection of flimsi tookas. “Did you learn something similar as a child?”

“If the Emperor knew flimsifolding, he didn’t teach it to me,” Mara shrugged. “But I was required to dissemble and reassemble my blaster for hours to learn precision and hone fine motor skills.”

“That sounds more fun than this!” Delly called out, the four year old having thus far made three uneven roses.

“And more dangerous,” Mara said conversationally as she worked on her folding, missing the grimace Milla and Amakos shared. “If you don’t get the wiring just right it shocks you - or worse - because once reassembled you have to do a test fire to make sure you’ve done it right, and if you haven’t, it blows up in your hand.”

“And uh…” Amakos cleared his throat. “How old were you when you, when you learned this?”

Mara thought back - they’d made her perfect it before she could practice on the firing range. “About ten I suppose.”

The room fell silent, and Mara looked up from her flimsi to find all of the Naberries looking at her with varying degrees of shock and pity, and she realised her error. Usually she was more cognisant to the brutality of her upbringing and rarely spoke of it, but then most of her acquaintance wouldn’t have blinked and eye at the story; smugglers and war veterans not being known for happy childhoods. Even Leia’s children had suffered more than they should have and would not have been surprised at her tale - in fact Jaina was still working on her hummingbird, tongue poking out of the side of her mouth in concentration. 

But looking at the Naberries, Mara realised they were of that lucky breed that, while not untouched by tragedy and hardship, had been cocooned on their soft, gentle world. There had been a time when she would have reacted to their discomfort with scorn, feeling judged and her first reaction to strike back, but it was a testament to how much she’d mellowed that Mara felt no such ill feeling. 

_You’ve gone soft, Jade_ , she thought to herself, not quite the chastisement it would once have been either. Any further rumination was halted by Sola’s hand on her arm, and when she turned to the older woman her face was tortured with concern.

“I hope I do not offend you my dear,” she said very softly, “but I am so grateful my niece and nephew were not found as children by the Emperor.”

“I’m not offended,” Mara assured her, and gave the others a conciliatory smile. “I feel the same.” 

It made her sick to think of Luke’s pure young soul corrupted by the Emperor, twisted in his own vile image. He wouldn’t have gone easy on Luke as he had with her - he’d used Mara for her talents but she’d not been valuable enough to draw his full attention. But Luke, son of Vader and every bit as powerful, his to mould and shape and violate, to snuff out that bright spark and turn his soul to the dark? The very thought of it made her shiver.

“I admit I’m still angry at the Jedi for keeping you from us,” Sola returned to her folding, and glanced at Leia across the table. “But I suppose if it kept you safe I’m grateful.”

Pooja looked over from her half-folded yacht. “I still can’t believe all those times I saw you speak in the Senate, you were really my little cousin. What do you think - ”

“Oh, no no,” Rin spoke up, “Aunt Pooja, no politics at Varykino. Right, grandmama?”

“He’s right my dear,” Sola smiled at her daughter. “This is our family sanctuary,” she explained to Leia and Mara, “no talk of work or politics.” 

“Hear that sweetheart?” Han spoke up from the half-formed star Darred had been diligently attempting to teach him with little success. “No more late night chats with your best friend Gavrisom.”

“Actually we only enforce the rule in the common areas,” Sola said, giving Leia a sly wink. “Your private quarters remain your own.”

Han huffed theatrically. “These Naberries, huh,” he said to Darred in an aside. “They stick together.” 

“You’re a Naberrie now too, Han.” Darred patted him on the shoulder. “You’ll find in this family there are only additions, no subtractions.”

“Speaking of additions...” Milla said in a singsong voice and gave her brother a pointed look. In response he threw a half-folded shaak at her, and Krahled blushed.

“Milla, leave your brother alone,” Ryoo scolded her. "You're both still young." 

“Yeah, just because you married Amakos five minutes after you met,” Rin teased, turning to Milla's husband. "Before he could get to know you."

Amakos laughed genially, running a hand through his dark blue hair. "Never underestimate the power of first impressions," he said, leaning over to take Milla's hand and kiss her palm. "Your sister was - and remains - a very beautiful flower."

Rin rolled his eyes and turned to his Krahled. "If I hear you say something gooey like that, we're breaking up."

"Such a cynic," Milla simpered at him. "I just want to plan a wedding, and you're being very uncooperative!"

Krahled laughed, and took Rin's hand with an amused shake of his head. Mara got the impression he'd put up with many similar conversations in the past, and was more amused than offended by them. 

"One day we're just going to elope," he teased, "and just send you a postcard."

Milla gasped theatrically, and the three of them dissolved into giggles. 

“She and I are twins too,” Rin turned to Leia, “did you pester your brother this much?”

“About getting married?” Leia raised one eyebrow and shot Mara an amused look. “No, he just went on a rescue mission and came back engaged.”

“To be fair, we had known each other for ten years before that,” Mara pointed out.

“Yeah, just like in the holofilms,” Avy spoke up, suddenly interested in the conversation. “Luke Skywalker and the Hand of the Emperor, and Luke Skywalker and the Secret of the Sith!”

Mara made a face. “Actually not like that at all.”

“Mom and Dad wouldn't let me watch the last one, just the wedding scene,” Avy chatted away while her Amakos grimaced. “They said it was _inappropriate_.”

Mara coloured, thinking of the rather explicit sexual scenes in the film, and while relieved the child had not seen them, it was awkward to think of that the adults in Luke’s family had.

“We...er, didn’t know you were family at the time,” Milla explained feebly, and Rin smothered a smirk with his hand.

“Sensationalist rubbish,” Sola waved her hand. “I can’t believe you watched them in the first place.” 

“Dad banned them from our house too,” Jaina looked up from her folding. “He doesn’t like the guy they got to play him."

“Well he looks nothing like me!” Han defended himself, throwing down his star in disgust. “And he’s too short.”

“Ten centimetres,” Leia sighed, “and he acts as if it was a personal attack. The actor they got to play Luke looks less like him than anyone, and you don’t hear him complain about it.”

“Oh that’s right, such a hardship,” Han scoffed. “That guy's two metres tall and has half the galaxy swooning over him.”

“If you like that sort of thing,” Mara waved a dismissive hand. “He may be tall, but he’s hardly an intellectual giant. At least when I last spoke to him.”

Avy gasped, her eyes wide. “ _You_ know Crístiôr? In real life?”

Mara smiled at the little girl. “He’s actually engaged to an old friend of Luke’s.”

“Zelia Faraday,” Avy nodded dreamily. “She’s so beautiful, they make a perfect couple! And you _know_ them? What’s Crístiôr like? Is he nice? I bet he’s nice.”

“Avy!” Amakos scolded her. “This isn’t _Galactic Goss_ , and you are not a sludgepeddler in search of a scoop.”

The girl pouted, but when her father turned his attention back to his folding she cut a sly look at Mara, who mouthed “I’ll tell you later” and gave her a wink. She didn’t begrudge Avy her innocent zest - Mara had never been allowed the luxury of girlhood fancies like holostars. The idea of regrets unsettled her, for who would she be if she hadn’t lived the life she had, what stranger would be sitting in her chair - would she be sitting there at all? But there was something about the Naberrie children that was enviable, that freedom of childhood she wanted for her own daughter.

The conversation thankfully turned to family gossip about some third cousins and Mara leaned back in her chair, rubbing her belly idly.

“Are you alright my dear?” Sola was ever quick to check, and Mara gave her conciliatory smile.

“Fine,” she told her, “a bit stiff. I think I’ll get up for a bit.”

“Let me show you the view,” Sola rose quickly, and Mara envied her speed since she herself took a few extra moments to get to her feet. They walked to the balcony that overlooked the lake, cast a golden hue by the afternoon sun. Elia bestirred herself from the floor and joined them, rubbing her cheek against Mara’s leg, not about to take the chance she would leave the room without her.

“I think of Padmé whenever I stand here,” Sola said, casting a wistful gaze over the water. “She used to love this view.”

Mara placed her hands on the stone balustrade, and Elia jumped up onto it, nimbly moving herself to sit between them and looked up expectantly. They stared at each other for a few moments, but Mara had learned she was no match for the tooka’s determination and that she could fix her unblinking gaze for hours until she got what she wanted, so it was easier to give in early. 

_Definitely soft_ , Mara thought as she rubbed Elia’s ear, rewarded with a purr of satisfaction.

“I wish she was here,” Sola added softly, “to see her children happy, to know we’ve all found each other again.”

“Maybe a part of her is,” Mara mused, uncharacteristically sentimental, but Varykino seemed to have that effect on her. “Luke believes that anyone who is one with the Force can look back on us - not just Jedi.” 

“It’s pretty to think so,” Sola agreed. “We call it the Great Sea - the beyond, the sublime. We walk upon the earth for only a short time, and then we swim forever in the eternal tide.”

Mara gave her a curious look. “A tide implies a flow in both directions.”

“Yes it does.” Sola held out her hand, and Elia was happy for a new prospect, moving nimbly across the stone ridge. “There are stories of souls who linger, like a lake holding its water for a time before it flows down into the core.”

“And you think Padmé lingers here?”

“A foolish hope perhaps.” Sola rubbed her slim fingers under Elia’s chin, and the tooka preened, her mouth opening into a wide, sharp-toothed grin. “Every time I come here I look out at the lake and hope to see her, or...a conduit to her.”

“The Lady of the Lake?” Mara quirked an eyebrow. “You’ve gotten Luke rather obsessed with her.”

Sola smiled. “I thought it might pique his interest.” 

“He does love a research project.” Mara couldn’t help but smile. He’d already been through all the historical data downloaded from Theed’s online library about the myth, and his trip to the fishing village that day was to meet with a man who’d claimed to have seen the spirit. Mara had kissed him and said to have fun, not about to traipse halfway around the lake chasing ghost stories.

Sola cooed at Elia, stroking lean fingers down her spine as the tooka’s fluffy tail curled around her wrist in encouragement.

“I’m glad you stayed with us today,” she said, and looked up with a smile. “I hope we haven’t been too much for you.”

“It’s different to what I’m used to,” Mara admitted. She’d grown accustomed to the incredible din that was a Skywalker-Solo family gathering, but she’d known them all for years and so it wasn’t quite overwhelming. But she was a solitary creature at heart, and the Naberries were a veritable pack.

“I’ve enjoyed it though,” she added, casting a glance back to the parlour. The babies had been liberated from the repulsorcots and were currently in their respective father’s arms, both Han and Amakos clearly happy to take on that duty if it excused them from flimsifolding. Jaina and Avy were still about their work, in some kind of competition as to who could produce the most, while old Jobal called out flaws and lectured them about diligence over speed.

Delly had escaped the table, running circles around the parlour and laughing hysterically while Rin and Krahled chased her with their hands bent like claws, growling theatrically. Leia, Ryoo and Pooja were deep in discussion, no doubt breaking the ‘no politics’ rule, with each making such similar gestures to emphasise their points there could be no doubt as to their relation. 

Milla had moved to sit next to Bran, lightly teasing her father and reminiscing about some past event which made them both laugh. And poor old Darred, having given up trying to teach Han, had leaned back in his chair and appeared to be taking a nap.

Mara turned back to the lake, the afternoon breeze slightly stinging her eyes. There was an ease to this family, a history of lives intertwined, and while Luke and Leia seemed to slot into place Mara felt perpetually on the outer no matter how welcoming they were. She didn’t express those thoughts - she didn’t want to upset the Naberries when they were trying so hard, but at Sola’s knowing gaze she wondered if the older woman had guessed. 

“You told me when we first met that you didn’t care to find who your parents were,” Sola said, still petting Elia somewhat absently. “Does that remain true?”

“That hasn’t changed,” Mara assured her. “I have the family I’ve chosen, that’s what’s important to me.”

“May I presume to hope we are included in that assessment?”

“You are if Elia has anything to say about it.” Mara gave the tooka a mock glare. “Traitor.”

Elia simply cocked her head and stared back with starry eyes that held no shame. But in her heart she was a loyal creature, and abandoned Sola to return to Mara, nudging her hand until she was given a stroke of acknowledgement.

“The Palpatine family estate is nearby,” Sola said cautiously. “I...wasn’t sure if you knew.”

“No,” Mara felt a shiver down her spine. “I didn’t.”

“A very noble family,” Sola said. “With a great house across the lake, high up on the ridge. It’s called Convergence.”

Mara scoffed. “I’m surprised it hadn’t been torn down.”

“It is our history.” Sola looked out over the lake. “Some mistakes should stand, lest we forget them.”

Mara followed her gaze, raising a hand to shield her eyes against the sun. It was far away, but she could make out the silhouette - rather than the pleasant, smooth rotundas of Varykino, the building was bracketed by sharp spires like claws ripping into the sky. She turned away, tasting bitterness. 

“Did you know him?”

“Not very well.” Sola moved closer. “We never had much to do with the family - or rather the other way around. Our fortune came from trade," she gave an amused smile, "peasant stock beneath the notice of such ancient blood. Until Padme became Queen of course - then he took great interest in her.”

Mara bristled. “I bet he did.” Elia nuzzled her face against her hand, as if sensing the spike in her emotions. “He was the Senator of Naboo at that time I believe?”

“As was his father and grandfather before him.” Sola’s mouth twisted unpleasantly. “We may elect Queens to rule over us, but we sent lords to represent our interests.”

“Until your daughter,” Mara pointed out. 

Sola looked back at Pooja, still deep in discussion with Leia and her sister, her face beaming with pride.

“She’s dedicated her life to undoing the damage of her predecessors.”

“The family business,” Mara said dryly, and looked out to the other side of the lake again. She would have thought she’d feel a splinter in the Force, a dark stain emanating from the birthplace of such evil, yet there was nothing. But Palpatine had always hidden in plain sight, and you never saw the knife until it was right at your throat.

Sola touched her arm lightly. “I hope I wasn’t wrong to tell you.”

“No.” Mara scooped Elia into her arms and held her close, eyes fixed on the shadow on the ridge. “I'm going to go there."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains late pregnancy sex, so if that's a squick for you and you want to skip it, the scene is at the very end of the chapter, and nothing happens afterwards.

It was late when Luke made it back to Varykino and found the household gathered on the terrace to watch the night races; the yachts with names illuminated by fluros on their hulls, and sails covered in a bioluminescence that made them glow like a rainbow kaleidoscope as they floated smoothly as clouds over the dark lake. The children sat on the stone balustrade, calling out their favourites and waving glowsticks so the crews could see them. 

“Where’s Mara?” he asked Leia, Dee asleep in her arms. 

“She went up to bed,” Leia told him, rocking her baby gently. “Don’t make that face,” she chided him, “she’s just tired.”

“I might head up too then.” Luke was rather tired himself, and had listened to Threepio’s chatter all the way back from the village. Thankfully he’d gone to the kitchens to deliver the fresh fish Luke had caught, while Artoo had also departed on his self appointed nightly patrol of the house.

“Are you sure?” Leia nodded towards the lake. “You’ll miss the fireworks.”

“I can see them from our rooms.” Luke covered a yawn with his hand. “If I make it that far!”

“Night then.” Leia leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “We still on for Theed tomorrow?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Luke promised her, and dragged himself through the marble hallways of the lake house and up the stairs of the far rotunda, a journey which felt far longer than it had any right to. Their quarters were dark, and he crept silently into the bedroom, illuminated only by moonlight spilling in through the open balcony.

Mara was asleep, laying still on her side facing the doorway. But she’d been restless; a tangle of red curls spilling over the pillow behind her and the bow of her lips pressed tight. Elia was curled up in a ball at the small of her back and could have easily been mistaken for a very fluffy, round pillow. 

Patooga however was awake, spread across the bed with his head resting on his massive front paws, watching the doorway. He perked up when Luke entered, lips curling back in what Luke remained convinced was a smile, purple tongue lolling out as he began to pant in excitement.

“Hey boy.” Luke whispered as he moved into the room. “You've been looking out for me, huh?”

He scratched the wonat’s ears as he sat down on the bed, and Patooga licked the side of his face in affirmation, then rolled over in an invitation to rub his belly.

Luke gave him a few moments of careful attention so not to wake Mara up. “I’m sorry I was late, have you had dinner?”

Patooga’s ears perked up, and as if on cue his stomach gave a wheezing rumble. “Okay bud,” he said with a low chuckle. “I’m sure it’s down in the kitchens waiting for you.” 

The cook always left food out for him to have at his leisure, but clearly the animal hadn’t wanted to leave Mara sleeping without a guard. Evidently satisfied with Luke's return, Patooga rolled back onto his feet and gave him a final lick before padding out of the room.

Mara was still asleep, but her other protector had awoken. As Luke removed his boots Elia got up and stretched, nuzzling her face against his hand until he bestowed an equal amount of attention on her. Once satisfied she also left the room via the open balcony to hunt for her own dinner in the woods surrounding the lake.

Luke sighed; dust and sweat clung to him after a long day under the sun and as much as he just wanted to crawl into bed beside his wife, he instead forced himself to the en suite to take a shower and scrub off the grime and soothe his tired muscles.

When he emerged, feeling much refreshed and sliding between the sheets without bothering to dress, Mara was waiting for him. 

“Did I wake you?” he asked, brushing back red curls from her forehead.

“No, those damn animals did,” Mara said wryly. “Or rather the absence of them. I’ve become  _ that _ person.”

Luke chuckled. “Accept it Mara, you’re domesticated.”

She growled. “Don’t make me vape you.” 

He laughed as he shifted closer and kissed the corner of her mouth, suddenly not feeling so tired after all. 

Mara cupped his face in her hand, thumb moving softly across his cheek. “Did you have a good day chasing fairies?”

“I think they consider the Lady of the Lake a water sprite rather than a fairy,” Luke said, and Mara rolled her eyes. “Or a water elemental,” he considered, “perhaps a nymph.”

“And fictional,” Mara told him. “Just because you’ve met a Celestial doesn’t mean they are all real.”

“Of course,” Luke said mildly, his interest was still more curiosity than anything. “Although I spoke to a fisherman today who claimed to have seen her. He fell off his boat during a storm and almost drowned - but a woman appeared from the depths to pull him to the surface, and wouldn’t let him sink below the waves. They found him unconscious on the shore the next morning.”

Mara raised a red-gold eyebrow. “Was she a mermaid, like that mural in the ballroom?”

“No - he said she looked human enough; her hair was white and there were feathers all the way down her arms.” Luke trailed his fingers from Mara’s shoulder down to her wrist. “She disappeared when he broke the surface, but there was a swan on the water, and he followed it out of the storm.”

“A swan?” Mara’s voice dripped incredulity. Luke rolled onto his back to gaze up at the mural on their own ceiling - a great golden sun with curling tendrils that swept around the domed roof. 

“It’s an old legend, apparently, from the early days of the Old Republic.” Luke recounted the tale that had been told to him by the old man as they’d fished off the jetty. “A young woman called Nimué lived in the village - an orphan. One day she had walked into the woods with her parents to gather gilfungi. But in those days savage bogwings still lived high in the trees, and they were attacked. The little girl ran out alone, her clothing torn and bloody, and her hair had gone completely white.”

Mara shifted closer, and Luke put his arm around her so she could nestle in the crook of his shoulder.

“From that day on they say she never spoke; but sometimes, when she sat on the shore of the lake weaving nets from the rushes, she would sing, and people would gather just to listen. She grew in age as well as beauty, and attracted the attention of many suitors, including the local magistrate; a proud, greedy man who wanted to possess her. But it was a fisherman that she loved; poor and kind, who would give her the best of his daily catch and never ask for anything in return.” 

“But the magistrate was sly; even though she spurned his advances, he announced their engagement before the entire village, knowing she could not say otherwise. She wept and sung a song so sad the village could not help but pity her, but none were brave enough to challenge the magistrate, who was rich and powerful, and administered the law. But her fisherman had a plan - he would not return to shore after the day’s fishing but remain out on the lake. By cover of night she would steal away and meet him, and they would run to a place where no one could keep them apart.”

Mara sighed, “but I assume things didn’t go to plan.”

“Of course not,” Luke said, twining his fingers through the tendrils of her hair. “She took a rowboat out to meet him at midnight, where his fishing sloop was still on the water. But when she alighted, her lover lay there on the deck, gutted like the fish that was his trade, and there was the magistrate, to take her back to the village where she would never escape him.”

“So Nimué began to sing, her voice high and clear, the night still enough that it carried all the way back to shore. She sung for help, to expose the murder, to show the magistrate she would not stand silent and let him take her for his own. In the struggle they fell overboard, and fearing that she would swim back to shore, the magistrate pushed her down beneath the water to stifle her song. That was when they were discovered, but the rescue party only pulled the magistrate from the water, and Nimué was nowhere to be found.”

“She drowned,” Mara gave a small shiver.

“So they thought,” Luke said, “but the next day they heard her song coming from the lake. They searched, but could find nothing but a white swan, gliding lightly across the lake.”

Mara sighed again, shifting in his arms and rubbing her belly idly. “She drowned,” she said again, “and so they found a way to turn tragedy into fantasy. They named the lake after her, and created a legend to assuage their own guilt.”

“Hmm.” Luke looked up at the ceiling again. “Quite a cynical interpretation.”

Mara laughed, raising her head to look at him. “Did you forget who you were married to?”

“I could never,” Luke said dryly, tapping her nose. She batted his hand away and settled back down on his shoulder.

“It is a sad story,” she sighed. “You tell it well though, have you been practising?”

Luke chuckled. “Well if I want my students to listen to Jedi legends, they need to be engaging. Not like when Yoda used to tell them to me, rattling off a load of names and events.”

“Maybe he thought saying everything backwards made it sound like poetry,” Mara teased, but then drummed her fingers on his sternum in thought. “So your fisherman saved by the swan-woman, it was just vision conjured up by a panicked mind, based on a story he knew.”

“Maybe,” Luke had also considered that to be the most likely explanation. “But you could say the same when I saw Sídhiúl, and I wonder...if that bridge between life and death is the only place where mortals and Celestials can meet.”

Mara was clearly unconvinced, and she pursed her lips as if stopping herself from puncturing his theory. He squeezed her shoulder and gave her a smile.

“Don’t worry, I’m not planning on almost dying again any time soon to test the theory.”

“You better not.” Mara poked him lightly in the side, and gave him a few more moments of valiant silence before she added, “Nimué was’t a Celestial though, I thought that was  Nabéire?”

“Accounts differ,” Luke admitted, “some say Nabéire saved her by turning her into a swan, others that it was her all along, living a life in human form until she returned to the lake.”

“And then there’s the mermaid,” Mara said dryly, “anyone get saved by her?”

“Not that I know of,” Luke kissed her temple and chuckled. “But you never know.” 

They lapsed into silence, Luke having imparted all of his information and Mara either satisfied or too tired to probe further. He realised it would be too easy to drift off to sleep, and made an effort to keep his eyes open. 

“How was your day?” he asked, fingers twining idly through her hair again.

“I’m a flimifolding expert,” she told him. “And I regret to say that they’ve all seen those dreadful holofilms.”

Luke groaned and ran his free hand over his eyes. “Oh no…”

“Avy wants an introduction to your counterpart by the way,” Mara needled him. “You might have to give your ex-girlfriend a call.”

“I’ll get right on that,” Luke said dryly, not sure he’d be able to face the Naberries in the morning. Trying not to think about it he let his eyes drift closed, although Mara began to absently drum her fingers against his sternum again, which indicated she had something else to tell him.

“Sola told me Palpatine’s family home is just across the lake.” she spoke up eventually, tensing slightly in his arms. “I’m going to go there tomorrow.”

Luke fought the instant urge to argue, and instead just held her closer. “Do you want me to come?”

“No.”

He sometimes had to remind himself that Mara was naturally taciturn, and that it didn’t mean she was keeping something from him, it was just she had nothing further to say. Perhaps after she’d been and confronted whatever it was that drew her to Palpatine’s ancestral home she’d want to talk about it, but he knew better than to press too soon.

In any case Luke felt the pull of sleep again, ready to drift off and release himself into a blissful, and quite well deserved, rest.

“What would you think if our child didn’t have the Force?”

Luke’s eyes snapped back open, and he shifted in the bed to face his wife. “I’m sorry?”

“Dee isn’t Force sensitive,” Mara explained, examining his face closely. “So it’s not a guarantee.”

“But she does have the Force.” Luke was confused. “We both felt it, on Helel.”

“Yes.” Mara’s hand splayed across her belly. “But we could have...others.”

Luke laughed. “A year ago you weren’t sure if you wanted any children at all, now you're already thinking of more?”

“Stop deflecting,” she said as a rosy blush formed on her cheeks. “Would you be disappointed?”

“I-” Luke almost made an automatic denial, but it was a question that Mara had obviously been dwelling over, and so it deserved proper consideration.

“I suppose...no, not disappointed,” he said, resting his hand over hers. “I spent so many years longing for a family of my own, and in those distant and idealised dreams yes that included teaching a son or daughter to use the Force - I never had that with my own father, those years were stolen from us.”

He looked up at the ceiling again, eyes tracing the rays of the golden sun. Whenever he thought of Anakin there was always a slight ache in his heart - not painful, just a twinge, a reminder of what should not be forgotten. He returned to it occasionally, savoured it, like one would stretch a sore muscle in satisfaction that it had been well worked.

“On the other hand,” he considered, “a child who is strong in the Force is always a target - to be taken and manipulated by those seeking to use their gifts for their own ends.” Jaina, Jacen, and Anakin were more than enough proof of that - he couldn’t bear to think of the agony Han and Leia had gone through all those times their children had been snatched away.

“On the other hand, the Force is a shield also; a child that can tap into that strength can perhaps better defend themselves, and there will always be those who seek to hurt us through those we love. On the other hand-” 

“You’ve run out of hands,” Mara teased him.

“Well, what do you think you would be?” he asked lightly, turning back to her. “Happy, like Leia?”

“I think a part of me would be.” Her eyes were downcast in contemplation. “They would never have the pressure to become a Jedi, to live up to your legacy.”

“I would never-”

“I know.” Her eyes flicked back up to meet his, hand pressing protectively against her belly. “But the galaxy at large will be salivating to compare you and any offspring - and pounce on anything that may indicate they don’t measure up.”

Luke brushed back a lock of hair from her forehead. “It’s not like you to care what others think.”

“I don’t care what they think about  _ me _ ,” Mara said, leaning slightly into his touch.

“And anyone going after our child is going to have  _ you _ to deal with,” he teased, touching his nose to hers. “No one would dare.”

“Hmph.” But she smiled and lightly rubbed her belly. “You're right though, so much has changed in only a year,” she mused; curiosity on the previous subject satiated. “It was midwinter on Coruscant a few weeks ago.”

“Well, with all the travelling we’ve been doing, it’s been more than a galactic standard year.” Luke tried to make the calculation in his head, but gave up halfway through. “But we’ve sure had an eventful one.”

“ _A year in the life of Luke and Mara Jade Skywalker_.” She waved her hand as if presenting a marquee. “That will be the next holofilm.”

“Nah, too tame for Geptun” Luke said. “They always seem to have some nonsense hook like _Luke Skywalker and Fires of Immolation_ , or _Mara Jade and the Blaster of Destiny_.” 

“ _Luke Skywalker and the Search for Celestials_ ,” Mara teased him. “Ugh, can you imagine if Geptun ever found out about your...special heritage?”

It didn’t even bear thinking about, and Luke internally shuddered, thankful that it was a secret that could be kept within family and impossible for anyone else to uncover.

“Speaking of names,” he said, eager to change the subject. “Do you want to talk options again?”

Mara sighed. “Not really.”

“We have to decide sometime.”

“We’re not naming our daughter Benita,” she eyed him, “I’ve told you before, veto.”

“I wasn’t serious about that one,” Luke defended himself. “But have you thought any more about Padmé? I mean, she’ll be born here on Naboo, it makes it special. Or what about Jade," he added on her reaction, "so she’ll have your name as well?”

“I just…” Mara sighed, back to drumming her fingers on his chest. “There will already be so much expectation on her being the first, I don’t want to give her another legacy to live up to.”

“At least I’m making suggestions,” he pointed out gently, although he understood her perspective. 

“I just know you wouldn’t like anything I’ve been thinking of,” Mara said with a shrug.

“If they’re all fancy operatic names you’re probably right,” Luke chuckled. “But go on, try me.”

Mara looked at him for a few moments. “Naamah.”

“That’s...nice.”

Mara swatted at his chest. “You’re a terrible liar, Luke.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Luke conceded. “It’s pretty, even. Just…”

“Doesn’t seem right?” Mara nodded. “I know. What about Chiara?”

Luke narrowed his eyes. “Isn’t that...one of your old aliases?”

“I picked it because I liked it,” Mara shrugged. “But I’m not wedded to anything in particular, that’s the problem. I only know what I  _ don’t _ want.” 

“How about Bela?”

Mara scrunched up her nose. “I once had a target named that. Shara?”

“Eh,” Luke grimaced. “Sounds too much like Shira.” 

“Point,” Mara sighed, shifting again in his arms. “We’re never going to agree - let’s just flip a credit, and the winner gets naming rights.”

“Naming rights?” Luke raised his eyebrows. “Our child isn’t a sponsorship deal, Mara.”

“Well, you can take the trader out of the girl…” she laughed, but Luke could see the conversation was going nowhere, and every inch of him was crying out for sleep.

“No need for a credit flip,” he told her. “You decide, Mara, I’m sure it will be lovely.”

“Really?” Mara searched his face for jest.

“Absolutely,” Luke nodded, eyelids drooping once more. “Tell me after she’s born.”

“When you’re so happy you won’t care what it is?” Mara caressed his face and studied him with open affection. “Tell you what - to make it equitable, if we have...more, and one is a boy, I promise you can call him Ben.”

“It’s a deal.” Luke laughed and kissed her to seal the agreement playfully, but she put her hands on either side of his face and drew him closer, turning it to something deeper.

“I really love you,” Mara whispered as she pulled away only far enough to look in his eyes. “You know?”

“I do.” A broad smile broke out, his hands travelling lightly down her back. “But it’s nice to hear all the same.”

She kissed him again, this time her lips lingering softly but suggestively. Her fingers trailed down his face, tracing the line of his neck and then down his chest to leave no doubt as to her intentions.

“Mara,” he managed to say, hand shifting to rest on her hip, “are you sure?”

They hadn’t been together in some time - the late stage of her pregnancy had wrought discomfort and fatigue, leaving her simply not in the mood to engage in marital activities. Luke had been content to simply hold her and soothe away any particular pains with the light brush of the Force. But if she was instigating, he was cognizant of the fact it may be their last chance for a while, and he didn’t want to pass it up.

“Yes,” she assured him, light fingers travelling down over his stomach and lower to brush against him. “Unless you’re too...tired?”

“Never,” Luke kissed her again, his fatigue forgotten as desire was roused by the slide of her lips under his.

Mara sighed her relief, arching her back as he began to kiss her neck. He took the hint, hand moving across the silk of her nightgown to cup her breast, and she gave a cry that seemed disproportionate to the light touch. Her breasts were round and full, straining against the material, her nipples forming high peaks that begged to be scaled. Luke ran his thumb ever so gently around the outside of the base in a circular motion, and couldn’t help but smirk as her breathing quickened and she pressed her legs together. When his thumb crested the summit she threw her head back and cried out his name, pushing her breast into his hand seeking further contact.

He did it again, and the result was even more successful; Mara began to quiver and he was becoming certain he could bring her to climax through that touch alone. Her hand had abandoned its own activities as she strained against him, hips moving slightly to increase the pleasure that was no doubt building inside her.

Luke’s hand shifted to steady her and make sure she didn’t accidentally roll onto her back as he kissed his way down her clavicle, her heavy breathing making her skin press against his lips and then tantalisingly fall away. He teased the seam of her nightgown with his teeth, lingering for a moment to decide whether to tear it off, but the silk was smooth and soft against his chin. Maybe after, he decided, letting his lips brush over the material, his hot breath caressing her and causing delightful, hitched sighs.

When he finally took her nipple in his mouth she gave a small shriek, and he smiled at first, bracing it lightly through the fabric with his teeth and stilling for a few moments to really draw it out. When she whispered a barely-there  _ please _ he folded his lips around the peak and sucked hard; she bucked against him, his arms and mouth holding her firm as her breathing quickened exponentially. She was almost there, so he added his tongue as a final point of pressure right on the apex, and she was so close, he could feel it in the shake of her body, the tight grasp of her fingers in his hair, the movement of her hips, and her Force sense building...

He tasted something wet and salty, and pulled away in surprise. A dark patch of fluid was leaking through her nightgown and Luke blinked a few times without comprehension.

“It’s just colostrum,” Mara explained with a shrug, her eyes still glassy and breathing heavy. “It comes before the milk.”

“Right,” he said, still somewhat taken aback by the small wet patch soaking through the fabric over her breast. Retrieving a cloth from the fresher, Luke helped her remove her nightgown and toss it aside, dabbing at her breast to clean away any remaining fluid before discarding the cloth too.

“Does it hurt?” He shifted back up the bed and stroked the side of her face. She shook her head but Luke didn’t want to risk it, instead kissing her softly again. The mood had not dissipated but only dimmed, and when he touched her again he avoided her breasts, fingers instead skimming her sides, passing over the large swell of her belly to press between her legs.

Mara arched into him again, her belly pushing against his arm and causing his fingers to slip away. She huffed and Luke chuckled, readjusting his position to caress her again, this time more firmly. 

“Don’t worry,” he told her and was rewarded with a small keening cry. “I’m undeterred.”

Her desire was quickly rising again; he felt it bleed over through their Force bond, every sensation heightened by the advanced stage of her pregnancy and the increased flush of blood through her veins. Luke touched her slowly, intending to enjoy watching the pleasure dance across her face but even the slightest caress seemed magnified tenfold as her breathing quickened, plump lips parting and dark eyes glossing over. 

It seemed too quick for her as well - Mara grasped his wrist and he stopped the movement of his hand. Then she released him, trailing light fingertips up his forearm and then pushing it away to grant her access to another appendage straining for her touch. 

Luke let out a sigh as she wrapped her hand around him and pumped firmly, an answering shiver moving up his spine and through his extremities. With a smirk, she used her other hand to gently push him onto his back, lifting herself up over him. His hands moved to support her as she grunted, taking some effort from both of them to allow her to swing one leg over his body and straddle his thighs.

He caught her errant thought -  _ all the grace of a Hutt in heat  _ \- and responded with a wave of his affection and desire for her undimmed. Mara turned her face away to the open balcony, but not in dismissal -he’d also sensed the shift in the night sky - the stillness pierced by an upward thrust far in the distance, and a distinct whistling sound before an explosion of spherical light and colour.

_ Guess we’re seeing the fireworks after all _ Luke thought as another went off, this time in the shape of a five pointed star. Mara turned her focus back to her earlier attentions - she’d always found fireworks rather boring - and while Luke enjoyed them, he much preferred her hands around him, and the reflected light of the explosions across her face rather than in the dark sky.

She lifted herself up on her knees and his hands immediately went to assist; her arms braced her belly and he firmly held her hips, allowing her to slowly sink down and sheath himself inside her. Mara sighed, her head tilting back as her eyes drifted closed and she began to move very slowly, almost experimentally, to make sure the position would still work. Luke took her hands and laced their fingers together, allowing her to rest her weight on him and give leverage to the rocking of her hips.

It was intense; their pleasure co-mingling through the Force as their confidence increased, Luke’s hips thrusting upwards to meet hers as the pressure built quickly once again. He tried to hold on, to stretch out the moment until forever, where there was just her and him and the rapture they shared, but it was all so much, and this time it seemed she didn’t care to wait. 

The sky outside was a riot of colour; haloing Mara’s red hair to a high gold, the light dancing across her face, full and engorged breasts bouncing over her round belly as she quickened her pace. She opened her eyes to meet his as another firework went off behind her and that was it, she cried out his name and squeezed his hands tightly, her climax reverberating through him as he gave one final thrust and followed her over the edge.

Her body was limp and boneless as she hovered above him in the aftermath, and Luke’s hands went again to steady her, holding her shoulders and easing her back down onto the bed beside him. She sighed happily and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into as close an embrace as was possible and whispering her love. 

Outside there was still the pop and bang of more fireworks, but there was no sound or light on any planet that would have stopped him from burying his face into Mara’s neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair, and - finally - drifting off to sleep.    
  



End file.
